


Teaching Miss Niima

by MizuPhoenix



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Choking, College Student Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Fluff and Smut, Misunderstandings, More like light choking, Mutual Pining, Obsessive Kylo Ren, POV Kylo Ren, Pining, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Professor Kylo Ren, Resolved Sexual Tension, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizuPhoenix/pseuds/MizuPhoenix
Summary: Kylo Ren was free. He gave his lectures, graded assignments, and generally kept to himself. He wanted peace and quiet. As much peace and quiet teaching could offer him, at least.He got what he wanted.Thensheappeared.Rey Niima was everything he ever desired in a woman, all save for one tiny,insignificantdetail. He was her Professor. Moral and ethical quandaries aside, hewantedher.





	Teaching Miss Niima

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReneeLovesReylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeLovesReylo/gifts).



> For the second prompt by Reneemm: AU: College. Professor Solo has a huge crush on his student, Rey. It's mutual. They assume the other wouldn't reciprocate. But, thankfully, a situation arises that reveals their feelings/attraction and they act on it. Awkwardness, obsession, intense feelings. Neither is confident at seducing the other.
> 
> I decided to just put this in Kylo's POV as I really enjoyed writing him. Also, this writing style is a bit different from my usual works. I tried to write pretty prose, and I hope it's okay.
> 
> Thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/works)! You're kind words and help mean the world to me!
> 
> Don't ask how long it took me to make the moodboard.... _far_ longer than it should have. Hope you like it.

* * *

The normal humdrum of his days spent teaching was all Kylo Ren could have asked for. No longer was he under Alistair Snoke’s thumb. While he had a hand in the man’s fall from grace, it was his mother that had paved the way. The fact that she was a senator finally paid off. He was finally free. The entire sham they called a boarding school was no longer running, he had found needed employment. Luckily, his mother helped with that issue as well.

Now he taught college students instead of whiny teenage brats. College students were varying in their enthusiasm for Classical English Literature. At least they paid for their education instead of being shipped off to be brainwashed by his former boss and colleagues. He gave his lectures, graded assignments, and generally kept to himself. He wanted peace and quiet. As much peace and quiet teaching could offer him, at least.

He got what he wanted.

Then _she_ appeared.

Like a god damned temptation sent from on high, Rey Niima walked into his classroom. Just the right height, perfect for resting his chin on her head. Thin, but not disgustingly so, especially with that perfect heart-shaped ass. If it were not terribly wrong, he would stare openly as she walked into his classroom and to her preferred seat; always in the front row of his lecture hall.

Her hair was chestnut spun silk, often held up in the most adorable three buns he had ever seen. While he wanted to rip her hair free of its restraints, the style did allow him to observe the enticing flesh of her neck. He both adored and despised this style, as any _boy_ could stare at the same flesh all throughout his class. For that brief period, while she walked into and out of his classroom, he said nothing.

Her eyes were fathomless pools of emerald greens, sapphire blues, and flecks of gold. They simmered under the harsh fluorescent light of his classroom. If only he could see their majesty under the natural light of the sun. His gaze would always linger on her while he lectured. Rapt was her attention, and he selfishly claimed all of it for himself. He wanted those beautiful orbs on him, always.

Her tanned skin bore the kiss of the sun; soft, warm and inviting. Freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to count them all. Find the ones hidden underneath her dress. She did dress rather conservatively; long sleeves, tight pants, no extra skin peeking out to give him a heart attack. Oh no, that secret skin was kept under lock and key, leaving his mind to its rather impressive imaginings.

Her voice was that of angels, soft and lilting. When she raised her hand to answer his questions he usually defaulted to calling on her. She always had the answers, as well as a unique outlook. He reveled in the sound of her voice, often wishing he could hear that voice in other situations. How would she sound breathless after a kiss? Would she be loud as he brought her to completion, or soft like she was in class?

She was beautiful, smart, and everything he had ever wanted in a companion. He had his share of flings, and one night stands, but they all fell to her perfection. Paled under her very presence, just as he did. He knelt before the altar of a sun goddess and wished nothing more than to worship at it.

Except, she was his student.

Thrice damned circumstances. He could not pursue her, because as her Professor he had power over her. Power to change her grades, to hold her education over her for favors he wished. Even if that was not at all the case, there were strict rules. So he had to keep silent and watch her every Monday and Friday, while she sat there, like a carrot dangling from a stick.

Of course, there was also the matter of their age. He was _much_ older than she was in both experience and actual numbers. There were those that enjoyed older men, and he desperately hoped Rey was one of them. She gave no signs that she enjoyed, or even noticed his attention. He had tried, as little as he was able, to lower his voice a bit, speaking to her in a tone just a little less professional. Nothing. No reactions and he kept an intent eye on her for that.

Lastly, there was the rather obvious issue of his, features. Many of the younger college students found him ‘unconventionally attractive’. Was he supposed to take that as a compliment? The unconventional part was obviously a jibe at his too big _everything._ His nose, ears, and lips were just the issues on his face. His body had no such drawbacks, he was large and kept his body toned to perfection.

His cock, though none of his students were aware, was also proportional to the rest of his body. He desired nothing else than to show Rey that particular feature of his, ‘unconventional attractiveness'.

There was nothing to be done, but endure the long nights spent aching for her. The few hours each week she was in his presence was both heaven and hell. Tortured as he had been under Snoke's thumb, this was a sweet agony he relished.

She was his.

His secret obsession.

* * *

As the months gave way to the cold bite of late fall, leaves falling into colored piles, his worldview shifted again. Running late to class instead of lying in wait for his students, he observed something that rendered his heart in two.

Rey was walking to class, arm around the grad students. _Dameron,_ his mind supplied with a hiss. He watched, arms shaking at his side as the man leaned down and placed a kiss upon her golden flesh. The cretin dared touch her, place his lips upon his shining beacon of light.

“I’ll see you after class, Rey,” the _boy_ promised her.

“Looking forward to it,” she answered, with a smile he had never seen before.

Blinded by her radiance, he was swallowed up by the dark shadows of his own soul. Of course, he was not alone seeing her perfection. Damn the rules, damn their circumstances, and damn Poe Dameron.

She was to be his, but only in his dreams. His darkest desires.

He coughed, wishing to end their continued staring. He would not be subjected to watch as his Rey fell to the charms of the rouge at her side. “Miss Niima, you are blocking the door,” he spoke, barely containing the boiling rage.

She turned and squeaked, eyeing him up and down for a moment. Fear flashed in her gaze, and he both relished and abhorred that look cast in his direction. “Mr. Ren, I’m sorry. I was a bit distracted,” she bowed her head.

"Quite," he sneered, "Dameron, unless you are taking this class again, please see yourself elsewhere. I don't need you distracting my students." He leveled a glare on the _boy_ in the vain hope he might scare him off.

He was ignored. “I’ll see you later, Rey, five o’clock don’t forget.”

This insipid flyboy had the gall to schedule a date in front of him? He strode past the two and bit the inside of his cheek. The ache in his chest warred with the anger in his blood. He would not subject himself to more humiliation.

She would never be his.

Damn fate for forcing him to be teaching Miss Niima. Had she not been his student perhaps she could have been _his._ As it was, that was all he had left of Rey Niima. He would guard that little piece of her with his life.

She _was_ his.

“Professor Ren?” she called, cautious and shaking like a leaf.

“Sit down Miss Niima, class will begin shortly,” he barked, unable to quell the heated temperature of his blood.

He watched her flinch then do as he ordered. At least he still held that ability, to make his students fear him if the need arose. He would not beg her for attention, and he would no longer lave it upon her. No, if Rey Niima wished to have his attention now, she would have to put forth some effort.

Thoughts of Rey Niima and Poe Dameron swirled through him like a knife. She would never want him when she had someone like that at her beck and call.

* * *

“Miss Niima, might I have a word with you after class?” he asked, wondering for the hundredth time that Friday afternoon why she had failed to present her homework.

“Of course, Mr. Ren,” she sang sweetly. Her eyes seemed to light up while her body shrunk under his gaze.

The lesson passed like molasses. Seconds ticked by like hours. A lifetime later found he and his obsession in his office.

The darker tones of his office were glowing in her presence. A seductive sight having her in his personal space. What wonders she could bring to his home? He shuddered at the thought.

He sat in his chair and regarded her. She stood in a woolen gray sweater, no trace of makeup, hair still in its standard style, and simple blue jeans. He wondered idly if Poe Dameron realized how radiant she was, even wearing plain clothes. He was sure the boy had seen her plenty without the coverings and knew just how radiant she was.

His face twisted into a scowl. "I assume you have a good reason for failing to provide your assignment this morning Miss Niima?" he spoke and held up his hand as her pink lips opened before his eyes like the petals of a rose. "And no, spending time with Mr. Dameron does not count," he sneered.

He watched her face twist first into a look of utter confusion before anger took over. Oh, so he had hit a nerve, had he. _Good. Let her feel an ounce of the rage and pain I have these last few weeks_.

“I finished the paper, only I must have forgotten it at home,” she quipped.

He shook his head. "Too bad. Well, perhaps this can be a learning experience for you then. Next time you won't forget to bring your work along."

“Professor Ren, have I done something to upset you?” she asked after a moment of silence. She bowed her head, twiddling her thumbs.

“You’ve forgotten your homework Miss Niima, I dare say that is reason enough. You are here to learn _aren’t_ you?” he questioned.

It was true her failing as a student had angered him. This was the only piece of her he could have, and she had forgotten it behind. Her brilliant brain too full of thoughts of her precious Dameron no doubt. She had begun to lose her brilliance as the weeks wore on. She was distracted, her writings told him as much.

That boy was ruining her.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry Professor,” she replied.

“Good, see that it doesn’t.” He gave her a nod and pointed to his office door.

It was becoming painful, being in her presence. He wished nothing more than for the right to sweep her off her feet. To pull her into his arms and show her his adoration. She was to be treasured, and he doubted anyone could provide that as well as he could. His need for her grew, and even now he was growing hard within her presence.

“I will see you Monday, Professor Ren,” she called out to him from the doorway.

“I can only hope you will not be so distracted,” he sighed, not daring to look upon her directly. His peripheral was all he could allow himself.

He watched her stiffen and turn back towards him completely. "No, certainly not!" she swore, raising her voice pink tinging her cheeks.

“Good, Mr. Dameron is not worth your grade nor your success.” He gave his head a firm nod, then turned his attention towards his computer. Logging in to post grades from his Thursday class.

“Of course not, Professor Ren, Monday then.”

She left his office and took all the light with it. Why could he not bite his tongue? His jealousy was too much, to fresh, and it tainted all his interactions with her now.

She was going to be his ruin.

* * *

Kylo Ren found himself stunned. Mixed up in Friday’s assignment was a paper probably for a creative writing course. He recognized the style of his sunlight, even if she had not placed her name on the paper. This was odd in part due to his already having read and graded her assignment. She had achieved a perfect score, and now she had brought him this.

Her head must still have been filled to the point of distraction. Curse Dameron and his hold over her mind. He could not have her heart, but could the spoiled brat not leave him her brilliant mind? He was tempted to toss the paper into his roaring fireplace.

Finals were in two weeks. Two weeks and he would lose access to Rey. She would be gone from his sight, and haunt his mind like a ghost. Someone else would sit in her seat come next term.

The reality that he was losing her finally hit him. She would no longer grace him with her presence. Life would return to the dull routine it had been before. No longer would light shine on Kylo Ren. He would be cast into the lonely embrace of darkness once more.

He despised that truth with every fiber of his being.

She was _his._

And yet, she was not.

The siren call born from a part of her mind sang to him, called him. He could have a piece of her she had not intended to give him. Something that was not under his purview as her Classic Lit Professor. Something that he could savor when the darkness came to swallow him whole.

He focused on the paper, soaking in her words. Relishing them, and burning them into his very soul. If he could not have her, this piece would have to suffice.

_He lurks in my mind like a wraith. Haunting my dreams, promising pleasure and pain. I can no longer turn a blind eye to him. He is there in all things. No longer a wraith, but solid and clear. I want him, desire him, need him. Yet he does not respond._

_Upon seeing him for the first time, it was akin to having sight again after a lifetime of blindness. Hearing his voice was much the same. Everything was just a murmur, white noise left to the background. His voice clear and sensual brought to me sound anew. His body, like none before and none again, perfection. His mind, sharp, brilliant, passionate, brought me to marvel as if learning a language for the first time. Words had no meaning before he entered my life._

_He is perfection, holding the brilliance of the stars of the night sky. Dark and seductive with every move, word, glance. I am bound by his spell, bound to him, and he does not know. The spell he cast over me grips my breast, and I see no other. He is fit to look upon whomever he wishes, no one demands who the moon shines upon. His soft touch is gifted to all in his presence._

_I wish it were mine alone._

_I wish he were mine alone._

_One can not hold the moon in their hand, no matter how hard they try to catch it. It is but an optical illusion that I hold any sway over him. He is ice like the void of space, yet I crave the chill his touch could illicit. The promise of his eyes speaks to the hidden heat of his gaze. Stars burn so brightly, but they are so far away. So out of my reach._

_I stand alone, my mind swept in the tumultuous sea that are my thoughts, my desires. I beg every night that he turn towards me, shine only for me. One does not move the stars in the sky. A cliché and a lie to even suggest the ability._

_I lay awake under his splendor, and give myself over to him. He owns me, mind body and soul. He can not see me, but I still offer myself to him. Vain hopes of a child, attempting to pull the attention of the elder and ancient powers holding me captive. I am captured, by his gaze, his words, his lips._

_To press upon them just once, I could die a peaceful death. To revel in sin with him for but a moment. It would be enough. Alas, all I have are longing stares and hidden desires. Soon I may lose my ability to gaze upon him. Time, fickle and unyielding threatens to rip me from his side._

_Time, who sought to bring me to life so late, I question its omnipotence. The vagaries of fate and time are unkind. One might even posit them cruel for cruelties sake. How does a mortal approach a god? Not with any hope of success. Not for one such as I._

_Garbage to be tossed aside by those who sired me, why should he bother to look upon me with his favor? Why should any man? No, the men in my life look upon me with pity, hidden under the guise of friendship. There are glimpses, tricks of the light that make it seem like he might see some value in me. Of course, it is arrogance to assume he views me as anything other than another charge under his brilliance._

_I am a child wishing to be a woman, and it is he that makes me feel as such. I am a child, meant to listen and learn, while I desire to be a woman, an equal to whom he might share a piece of himself. All of himself as like a child I find my desire selfish. It is a selfish, childish desire to own the night and all its splendor._

_To become a woman, I must lose the last shreds of my innocence. The last vestiges of childhood clinging to my soul. If he would only see, and take this innocence from me. Make me a woman under his guidance, as I can not shake this alone. I often dream of this act, this claiming. I would give him my greatest treasure and thank him for it._

_I can not pull his gaze. I can not sway his mind. I can not entice his desires. I can not make him mine. I am his, wholly and completely. I can only sit and wait until time runs its course, and I am left alone and bereft._

_Until Time's cruel hand rips me from his side I shall sit and wait. I shall learn from him and take him with me forevermore. His loyal student, ever thankful he taught me the ways of desire and passion. One who can only dream sweet dreams of holding the moon and the stars in her hands. His, forever._

_My moon._

_My stars._

_My desire._

_My everything._

_My teacher._

He read the words, over and over until it was all he could see, all he knew. These thoughts, personal and beautiful were not his to behold. He felt disgusted with himself for invading her privacy like a thief in the night.

Still, her words gave him pause. The document was not addressed, her name nowhere in sight. Yet it was Rey's words. He knew it was her words. So why was it left for him? Why did she think to share this with him?

Was this a sign?

Was this a confession?

He could only hope. He continued to stare at the paper under the dancing light of the flames. Could he ask, dare he ask? Open the door to whatever end this revelation would bring. He could leave the question unasked, remain silent in his pining, his obsession. Would he be able to live with himself?

No.

He had to take the chance.

He would know for sure if these beautiful words were a confession or damnation. He would not sit idly by as she drifted through his fingers like the sands of time through the hourglass. He would wait, only until she was no longer his student. She deserved to be able to focus on her studies.

She would no longer be his student but hoped flared that perhaps she could become _his._

* * *

Finals were graded, posted, and now Rey Niima was no longer his student. He waited, door open and final grades posted outside his office door. When he saw her pass by his office to the board, he held his breath. Panic seized him. How could he call her into his office without raising suspicion?

The universe must have taken pity on his plight because he watched her walk over and knock on his open door. She looked timid, hunched over and protecting herself. From what dangers he did not know, but wished to root out and destroy. She stood tall when he motioned her inside.

“You may close the door if you wish,” he offered.

No sooner had the last syllable left his lips, than the door was shut tight. They were alone. He watched her cross deeper into his office, his domain. Her head was held high, though her fingers twitched with nervous energy.

Her coat hung open, soft grey wool, buttons undone. She had chosen a fluffy turtleneck, black and clinging to her curves. Her dark denim jeans cupped her mile-long legs, a second skin that left little to the imagination. Her hair was not in its usual three buns. No, she let her hair dance along the nape of her neck and shoulder. Half of it pulled up into a crown of braids that circled her head.

Braids.

He wondered if she had done this for him. Her tiny deft hands twisting her hair to show them its glory one last time. Or perhaps someone else had wrapped her hair so neatly, so perfectly. Rey had no idea the significance of braids he held. That they symbolized a familial tie to his ancestor's origins. How could she know? As they had never spoken as anything other than teacher and student.

He appreciated the braids all the same.

"Would you care to sit?" he asked, waving his hand towards one of his office chairs.

The plush maroon would mix well with her choice of pallet today. She sat down, and he was proved right. She looked as if she belonged to be a part of this office, a part of his life. He moved the paper sat on his desk hoping to gain her notice.

"Thank you, Professor Ren," she answered.

Time continued to flow as they sat together in silence. He was unwilling to break the spell just yet. He was burning her image into his mind so that he would never forget her. He doubted he would as she had him enthralled. This potential last meeting might be all he was afforded, and he was a selfish man.

Finally, she broke the silence, “Professor,” she urged.

“Miss Niima, were you unsatisfied with your final grade?” he asked.

She flushed and shook her head, loose hair whirling around her like a halo of chestnut. “No, not at all.”

“Then what brings you to my office? You are as of now, no longer my student,” he pointed out, still hedging his bets. He was mustering up the courage to ask her about her paper. The one that sat so innocently in the middle of his desk.

"Well," she bit her lip, the pink petal so tempting under the abuse. "I wanted to thank you, Professor."

“You earned the grade through your own hard work and intelligence. There is no need for thanks,” he offered, once more nudging the paper.

"Still, had you not been such a wonderful teacher I doubt I would have been so motivated," she opined.

“Speaking of motivation,” he began, as it was now or never. “You left a rather interesting essay with me a few weeks ago. Perhaps you care to explain,” he pushed the sacred paper across his desk and towards her.

Rey looked down, and the pink flush to her cheeks was so delicious he had to force himself to remain seated. The urge to pull her into his arms was growing stronger still. She glanced over the paper, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his own. The enchanting hues of her eyes hypnotizing him.

“I, well, I wished to try and write something. I thought you might be the most receptive,” she answered, once more biting her lips. Cryptic, it seemed he was not the only one hedging their bets.

“I did indeed enjoy this. Though one has to question the subject matter. I have my own thoughts, but I would like to hear yours.” He leaned forward, wishing the desk was not acting as a barrier between them.

She kept up that tortuous lip biting, and the pink flush soon bloomed into a red rose. Her voice did not quiver, but her body gave away her nervous plight. “The subject is forbidden desire.”

Kylo smirked, having already gathered as much. Emboldened he pressed on, “is this a forbidden desire you have, or just the idea of such?”

Rey shifted in her seat. He watched her squirm and wished nothing more than to make her writhe underneath him. "One I have, for a man I know."

Hope gripped his chest into a vice, just as surely as fear was trying to do. “Mr. Dameron?” he questioned, needing to be sure.

Rey shook her head, chestnut waves whipping with the same vehement disagreement as her voice. “No! Not him, someone else. Someone more refined, even more out of my reach,” she swore. “If I wanted Poe, I think my life would be easier,” there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“But not better?” he asked, though he was sure of her answer.

“No. The heart wants what it wants.” Rey’s lips dipped into a frown, eyes filling with darkness. That was unbecoming a creature touched by light.

"Is there someone your heart wants? One you think you can not have?" He willed his eyes to show her the truth. That he too knew of such feelings. That his heart and mind had been captured by one he should not want, thought he could not have.

After what seemed an eternity and a single second all at once, Rey smiled at him. A soft and hesitant thing, not unlike a tiny bird. Fragile, but so ready to take flight. If only someone would give her a gentle push.

“Yes, Professor.” She leaned closer, hand placed over her paper.

He moved towards her, the wood of his desk biting into his chest. He paid the pain no mind. He was so close now. “Any man would be a fool to deny you,” he purred.

Rey shivered and came ever closer. Her lips inches from his own. He watched them part with rapt attention. "Even you, Professor?"

“Kylo,” he managed to growl. His mouth now dry, and heart thundering in his chest. “I am no longer your Professor,” he swallowed, watching her eyes dart to his throat. She could rip it out as he laid it bare before her. “Rey,” he whispered.

“You didn’t answer my question.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing.

So he did, not with pretty words but with lips that had been aching for her. Months spent wishing, praying, watching, lusting after her pent up into a furious press of his lips upon her own. "Especially me," he managed between caresses of his lips to hers.

"Kylo," she cried and opened herself to him.

She was _his_.

* * *

Kylo carried her into his home. Like a knight carrying his princess. Or as a husband would bring home his new bride. A swift kick to the door as he passed, and they were surrounded by darkness. He needed no other light, he had her. His sun.

“Nice place,” she murmured as he took to the stairs like a bolt of lightning. His steps rushed, but sure.

“I’ll give you a tour later,” he promised. He would, wanting her to like his home. Like it enough to want to keep returning.

“Oh?” she taunted, continuing to bite that lip like it was her profession.

He pulled her lip free from its abuse, soothing the bruised flesh with his tongue. “I think we’ve waited long enough,” he purred.

Without wasting time he carried her through the open door and tossed her onto his bed. Fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt. He kept his eyes focused on her, heated and sure. She lifted her shirt, and his fingers fumbled. He watched her shimmy out of her jeans, and he practically ripped his own from his body.

He could not wait another moment more to feel her flesh. There would be time later for slow passion. He could take his time observing her naked flesh later. He did note her freckles were not only relegated to her nose and cheeks.

He fell upon her, sweeping her into the tide of his kiss. Moans erupted between them, crashing against the wall of his bedroom. Filling what was once a silent prison of hopeless lust with passionate cries of finally, _finally_ coming together.

His hands found the clasp of her bra, while her own pushed his briefs down his hips. Their hands rushed to remove the final layers between them. Lifting his head from her sweet lips he asked without words for permission to act. To finally make her his own, as he was irrevocably hers.

She gave him a nod. It was all the answer he needed. He ripped her panties down her legs and dove in, to feast upon her.

She screamed his name, answering yet another one of his many questions. She was not quiet, as she had been as his student. She was loud, fiery passion, as he knew his sun would be. He devoured her, mouth laid open, tongue dancing against her sensitive flesh.

She tasted _divine_.

He would have to spend an entire night drinking her like a fine wine. For now, so like the college beer he consumed in his youth, he guzzled her down, thighs holding him trapped against her. His fingers dug into her hips, clamping down on her bucking. She had sat so still in class, now she was a wild thing. It took all his power just to hold onto her.

She came apart around his tongue, the taste of Rey exploding in his mouth. He pulled himself away, a devilish smirk upon his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m going to do that to you every single night,” he promised.

Pride swelled in his chest when her glassy gaze focused, whipping towards him. He was pinned under her stare. Half raised between her thighs. “Promise?” she begged, biting her lips once more.

“Promise, sweetheart. You’ll be a good girl for me and let me won’t you?” He lifted himself and freed her lip once more. He knew the answer, he just wanted, needed, to see her accept.

“Yes,” she cried as her arms wrapped around his back, digging in and leaving welts of pain in their wake.

He shuddered under her assault, taking his cock in hand he pressed himself against her. His caught her eye and whispered, “I’m clean.”

“Same, and I'm on the pill,” she answered.

He needed no further encouragement. He entered her slowly, unable to rush this one moment. He would savor the first time he became one with his sun. An eclipse that blotted out everything but her and him. The sun and moon meeting together in bliss.

His entire body froze when he felt resistance part way towards heaven. His eyes widened, and his jaw fell slack. There were no words. He beheld her again, she was his. She was about to be well and truly his, and his _alone_.

She nodded, understanding his unspoken question. “No one but you, Pro- Kylo.”

His lips found her own, fingers pinched and played with her clit, distracting her from the pressure of his slow pace forward. He muffled her cries as he felt himself push past her maidenhead, claiming her for his own.

Something shifted, primal and dark. He gripped her throat and pulled himself from her lips. With a rumbled growl he spoke his darkness into her ear. "You're mine, Rey. Mine," he swore. His hand was firm on her throat, but not harsh, a soft pressure. A physical show of his claim.

He would never hurt her.

He _would_ always hold her.

Just as she held him.

She nodded, whimpering, writhing underneath him just as he wished. Hopes became truth under her light. “Kylo,” she mewled, trembling under him.

“Say it!” he demanded. He needed to hear the words, her words.

"I'm yours!" She swore as she arched her hips, eyes staring into his very soul. Tears leaked from the edges.

He kissed her tears away and began to shift, pulling out of her with a hiss. When only the head remained he bent down to her ear. "Don't be afraid, I feel it too," he swore and thrust into her waiting heat.

If tasting her on his tongue was divine, he found no adequate words to describe the perfection that was her pussy gripping his cock. She was so wet. So fucking tight. Her pussy clenching, trying to draw him in deeper, keep him locked inside of her.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he praised, “you feel so good. Gripping my cock so tight.”

He drew his hand from her throat, curling around to bring her lips to his once more. He groaned into her lips, the sound of skin slapping against skin only broken by her desperate cries. He felt them, ate them up and savored each passionate exclamation.

He could not find a rhythm. Every brush of her hands, every shift of her hips threw him off balance. His fingers continued to stimulate her clit, hoping she could beat the odds. The desire to bring her to completion her first time was the only thing he knew. He would bring her pleasure and bind her to him for the rest of their lives.

For what seemed like hours he pounded into her pliant and willing body. But all good things must come to an end. When he felt the pressure within his balls tighten he pulled himself from her lips.

“Come, for me,” he ordered, he begged, he wished.

She blinked up at him, perhaps not knowing how to ask for what she needed. Her lips trembled. "Please," she pleaded for his help.

He shifted, moving his hand from cradling her head over her body to her hips. He lifted her just so and sought the right angle to hit that special place inside her. The one he knew would make her fall apart. He summoned all his strength to hold out. To wait for her. He had waited for months, he could hold out for another minute.

Her screams pierced through the room, “Kylo,” his name on her lips as she fell apart.

He felt her walls tighten around his cock, gripping him in a vice, her own claim upon him. He unleashed himself, her name ripped from his lips. “Rey! My Rey!” he cried into the expanse of her neck.

He fell to the side, enough sense left in his body not to crush her. He would never hurt her his precious, no, sacred treasure. As he crashed back to earth, and his bed, he wrapped Rey into his arms. She was his now. No longer would he have to imagine her naked, nor wish to have her in his arms. She was here, right where she belonged.

* * *

Sometime later, as time had become irrelevant he did not care to check how much time had passed with Rey encircled in his embrace, his senses returned to him. Rey tilted her head toward him, placing a kiss on his jaw. "Kylo," she purred, "that was amazing."

He could not have stopped the smirk if he tried. “I’m sure with a bit more practice we can reach perfection.”

She wrapped her own arms around him, and hummed into his chest, “I can’t wait.”

He placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m glad you took my class, even if the wait for you nearly tore me asunder.”

Rey nodded her head, soft hands rubbing up and down his back. “Yes, I’m glad my boss suggested it, as well as his wife.”

Kylo realized he knew very little about her. Rey Niima was a mystery he was eager to solve. “Oh? Where do you work?”

“Han Solo’s garage,” she whispered, peeking up at him through her long lashes.

That would mean...the thought trailed off and died under her brilliant smile. “My mother and father? You knew?”

“Leia had been rather insistent we meet. She assured me I was suited to you and I had to take your class.”

He frowned, his meddlesome mother would. “So you took my class, knowing I might desire you?”

Rey shook her head. "No, I took your class knowing that you would make English an interesting enough topic. I needed an English credit and her son happened to be a very talented CLassical Literature Professor at my college."

Kylo frowned but knew his mother would have had ulterior motives. "Does she know?"

Rey buried her face in his chest. He could feel the warmth from her cheeks burning away at his annoyance. “She does. Found out after Thanksgiving. She was convinced you were either interested or an idiot.”

Rey had been at his parent’s for Thanksgiving? He would have to ask about the details behind that later. At least know he knew why his mother was so incensed he did not bother to make the gathering, nor return her calls. She had called no less than thirty times and had left as many messages. All the same. ‘Benjamin Solo you bring your butt home for Thanksgiving with your family. Now!’

He could have been like this with Rey a month ago, he realized. Well, so long as he and Rey could have kept their relationship hidden. At least now he did not have to. She was no longer his student, and he would worship her body whenever he wished. So long as he had her consent. From her reactions earlier, that would not be difficult to procure.

His father would be proud.

Speaking of his father, Kylo rolled his eyes. “And my father?”

“Oh, he swore up and down you would never do anything until after I was out of your class. Bet your mother over it too.” Rey added, pulling away to stare at him.

He would, Kylo frowned. Knowing his father he would collect on that bet too. His father knew him too well. Which made perfect sense because Snoke had often remarked there was too much of his father in him. He stared down at the sacred treasure in his arms and snorted. Of course, he would find a treasure much like his father, the man who was once and Archeology Professor. Han Solo had _also_ married one of his students. Now he was retired and ran a garage with his best friend, Kylo’s Uncle Chewie.

Perhaps Rey was always meant for him, as he was meant for her. His mind drifted towards her confession. “Whose idea was that essay where you basically revealed all your desires for me?” he wondered aloud.

"Your father," she blushed, "well he saw me working on it during a break. He read it and said I needed to go for it," she ducked her head once more into his chest.

“Well, without their meddling we would not be here I guess,” he sighed. Now he was going to have to attend family dinners.

“Are you mad?”

“At you, sweetheart? No. At my parents? Positively livid.” He swooped down to claim her lips before she could abuse them beneath her teeth again.

He could never be mad at her. She would just have to join him for family dinners. If he was forced to suffer their teasing, he would not do so alone. That thought warmed his heart and heated his blood. They were not alone, they had each other.

He pushed Rey back onto her back, hovering over her with a wide grin.

“You’re not alone,” he told her.

“Neither are you,” she answered.

His Rey had a way with words.

* * *

Years later and still he found himself enthralled with her. Everything she did was pure magic, and he followed her around like her loyal familiar. The sex was phenomenal, and the affection pure perfection. After another night of marathon sex, they found themselves curled up on his bed, laughing.

Her laugh was soft, a bit gravely considering her earlier screams, but altogether warm and comforting. “I mean sure, but I think I'd need a teacher.”

“Oh? I do know a rather dashing Professor who would be eager to teach you,” he purred.

“Right now? Because you know how excited I am to learn new things. Especially from you,” she smirked, lifting herself back to a seated position above him.

“Miss Niima, the lesson is over. I will need a few minutes before I can _educate_ you again,” he rasped, allowing himself to chuckle.

“I look forward to your lessons, Professor.”

“Always sitting so eager, ready to learn, at the front of the class,” he teased.

“How else could I hope to gain your attention?” she tossed back, feigning innocence.

He felt the heated stirring of his cock. His hands dug into her hips, rocking her over him. “Such a naughty girl, trying to seduce her professor.”

“Yes, but I’ll be such a good girl for him,” she agreed as she ground herself against his hardening cock.

She was his.

He was hers.

For the rest of their lives.

He would always and forevermore continue teaching Miss Niima.

**Author's Note:**

> I will say I got about nine chapters into the first prompt that I was sent before I realized that anything for the RFFA has to be completed. As there is no WAY that will be finished on time I wrote this. I'll be posting that as well but on my own time. (I also really wanted to write an ABO so this was my chance.)
> 
> I tried to hit as many of your suggestions and wants as I could, and I hope you enjoyed it Reneemm!
> 
> Oh, and FYI with Poe, it's a bit open-ended. I like to think he asked her out and she only saw him and his advances as friendship. Poe was super friend zoned. The other option fits more with my headcanon overall. He was more of a protective older brother who was in a committed relationship with Finn. So there was no real Damrey, only a jealous Kylo's assumptions. And you all know what to assume something does. "Makes an ASS out of U and ME". (Hope it came off that way because I know you said you did not want love triangles, but I could not resist the misunderstanding with the way I wrote obsessive and possessive Kylo.)


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